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Updated: June 25, 2025
It's all rot, of course; his constituents are strong for Burr, but he's a good deal of a fool, and Rann has put it into his head that he must do the 'honest thing' by coming out for Webb. He has a great idea of party honour, so out he's come." "Rann's a born organiser," commented Tom. "Ah, there's where we aren't even with him.
"It's well, what is it?" Mrs. Rann's voice rang with exultation. "Your favorite, Mr. Joe." "Not raisin pie?" A shout went up from all. Then real moisture came stealthily to Joe's eyes, and he looked about on those friendly faces, and murmured: "Thoughtful, mightily thoughtful!"
But the fresh air restored her courage, and by the time she sat in Mrs. Rann's drawing-room, face to face with her hostess, she was at ease with herself and her surroundings. She gave out at once the peculiar social atmosphere of her race; she uttered her gay little nothings with an intimate air; she laughed good-humouredly at Mrs. Rann's gossip, and she begged to see photographs of Mrs.
But the big fellow's simple grief worked on him and made him waver, and there were other meetings with old employees that sharply drew him back to the printery. One evening, after a big day of activity, he found it too late to reach the boarding-house for supper and he remembered that John Rann's baby was sick.
Baloo looked up to see where the voice came from, and there was Rann the Kite, sweeping down with the sun shining on the upturned flanges of his wings. It was near Rann's bedtime, but he had ranged all over the jungle looking for the Bear and had missed him in the thick foliage. "What is it?" said Baloo. "I have seen Mowgli among the Bandar-log. He bade me tell you. I watched.
This man, who was known as Culver Rann, was worse than Quade, a scoundrel of the first water, a procurer, a blackmailer, even a murderer though he had thus far succeeded in evading the rather loose and poorly working tentacles of mountain law. Not for an instant did he think of Joanne as Culver Rann's wife. She was his wife.
Five minutes later he stood close to Rann's house. From the side on which he had approached it was dark. No gleam of light showed through the windows. Slowly he walked around the building, and stopped suddenly on the opposite side. Here a closely drawn curtain was illuminated by a glow from within. Cautiously Aldous made his way along the log wall of the house until he came to the window.
Gilderoy's brutality, which was always theatrical, ensured a constant remembrance, and the lofty gallows added to his repute; while the brilliant inspiration of the strings, which decorated Rann's breeches, was sufficient to conquer death. How should a hero sink to oblivion who had chosen for himself so splendid a name as Sixteen-String Jack? So far, then, their achievement is parallel.
Are you in on this with me?" Culver Rann's reply was as quick and sharp as a pistol shot. "I am." For another moment there was silence. Then Quade asked: "Any need of writin', Culver?" "No. There can't be a written agreement in this deal because it's dangerous. There won't be much said about old MacDonald. But questions, a good many of them, will be asked about this man Aldous.
"I've been suspicious of him ever since we come down from the North," spoke MacDonald slowly. "I watched him night an' day. I was afraid he'd get a grubstake an' start back alone. Then I saw him with Culver Rann. It was late. I heard 'im leave the shack, an' I followed. He went to Rann's house an' Rann was expecting him. Three times I followed him to Culver Rann's house.
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